Fall With Me
by Levanael
Summary: Castiel discovers that the dangerous Archangel of Death Azrael is far gentler than he could ever imagine, and all she is truly looking for is companionship. However, with Raphael tearing Heaven apart, can anything end happily?


Disclaimer: As my name is not Kripke, I don't own Supernatural, even the smallest atom. No profit will be made from this fanfic, and no animals were harmed in the making of it.

Warnings: AU; occasional strong language, and angelcest. It's my first, so if I've done something horribly, terribly wrong, please do tell. By the way, if you have not read Exodus on Campus by Yukimora Hina, I would suggest you do. This fic contains allusions to the events that occurred in that one. However, it is not necessary.

"Hello there, Thursday..." He spun, blade in hand, instantly wary of whatever being that had somehow managed to sneak up on him without setting of warrior instincts that had been trained for millenia. "Easy, soldier. Stand down." The angel standing behind him was surprisingly nonthreatening looking. The vessel she had worn for so many years was that of a small female, no taller than 5'3. The vessel had obviously been born somewhere Ireland. Her hair was cut short, and was a rich red, and hung around her cheeks, across her eyes, and around her neck in ragged spikes, giving her a vaguely ruffled look. Her eyes were a rich emerald, almond shaped, and gleamed at him of a face with perfectly clear porcelain skin. Her lips, a beautiful pink, were curled in a gentle smirk, toeing the line between laughing at someone and laughing with someone. All in all, she was a beautiful, if rather petite, package. Castiel knew that housed within this innocuous shell was something infinitely dangerous, like a nuclear bomb hidden within a teddy bear. "Azrael. You have not been seen around Heaven recently." "Yes, well, I am not really one to get into a civil war with the rest of my brethren. I had to watch too many of my brothers die during the Apocalypse, and have no desire to watch any of the others tear themselves apart. I barely got Gabriel back. So, I am absenting myself until everyone gets their heads screwed back on correctly. Besides, I was only ever meant to follow orders directly from Father to use the gifts He gave me, and since Father is currently not available, there is not much use for an Archngel of Death that can blow out the light of any living creature's life. Such is life." A frown flickered across her face as she thought of the one time that she had been tricked into using her gifts against innocents, and the vague anger that was still inside her. A slight shake of her head, and she pushed it back to the far corners of her mind. Instead of contemplating something that could not be fixed, she decided to contemplate the angel standing in front of her. Focusing her gaze him, she looked vaguely pensive for a moment, and her eyes flashed to the black of night, small stars flicking there. She blinked, and the stars were gone, replaced by her vessel's emerald eyes. "But enough about me... I came to talk about you. You see Castiel..." she slowly paced around him, looking him up and down, a slightly odd expression in those eyes. She eyed the worn trench coat, the tie, the button up shirt. "You see Castiel, I am bored, and rather lonely. The rest of the extended family is not exactly happy with me relaxing on the side lines, ignoring the little blood feud going on, but with all my big brothers gone in some way, shape, or form, no one comes even close to having enough power to lobby me over to their side. Well... Gabriel could be he is absenting himself from this confrontation as well. So everyone stays clear of me. I want a friend, Castiel, and as I know you aren't exactly pleased about the current situation, I was looking to maybe offer you a small deal." She was close to him now, and he could feel ethereal wings brushing against him. He froze, almost like a rabbit freezing before a snake. That's almost what he felt like. He was used to dealing with essentially "normal" angels, but Azrael was far from normal. She walked along a razor blade's edge between darkness and light, and the duality of her nature made her all too often unpredictable. She was dangerous... deadly, able to kill anything, everything, and that was terrifying. He could feel her power crackling around him, and knew now how she had slaughtered entire towns when Father had commanded. He had once called Uriel a specialist, but Azrael... Azrael made Uriel look like a child hitting blocks with a plastic mallet when it came to a power comparison.

She must have noticed she was making him slightly uncomfortable because, instantly, all that power that flooded the air around them was gone. "As I was saying... my deal. I would quite happily offer you a pass... a pass out of this foolish war. No one ever tries to bother me, and I severely doubt anyone would be idiotic enough to mess with those I consider... important." Her smile went from a slight teasing smile to absolute zero cold in less than a millisecond. Stars gleamed in black eyes again as she looked up at him, head slightly cocked in that all too familiar, angelic way. Castiel knew that look. He had felt himself do that exact same expression with his vessel. He doubted she was confused, so it more than likely meant that she was seriously contemplating him, and that made him uncomfortable. "I... am not sure what you mean." His voice was slightly gruffer than usual, testament to exactly how nervous the Archangel of Death contemplating him that seriously made him.

The contemplative look switched to one of confusion. "Castiel... why are you scared of me..." . She searched his face with those starry eyes, both the vessel, and his true face. He felt tiny now, with her Grace again curling around him like an ocean, an ocean that he could all too easily drown in. She must have felt his anxiety, because she instantly shrank back, moving away from him physically, again pulling her power back inside, shuttering it away, although he felt a silky feather brush along the side of his face. "You don't need to fear me, Castiel. Learn the lesson so few of my brethren have... I am only dangerous to those that are dangerous to me. I understand that that lesson might be difficult to grasp considering my history. But so many other angels have done far worse things that I have done, yet they are not feared. Please Castiel... do consider my offer. I am far less terrifying than most of my brothers and sisters believe." She gave a slightly frown one last time, and a flash of deep, gut-wrenching loneliness flashed across her emerald eyes, and then she was gone, all except for a single, gray feather floating down in the air.

Castiel snatched it out of the air, contemplating it. He could feel an immense sadness in that feather, an echo of the angel it belonged to. Sadness, loneliness, and some emotion he couldn't identify. It was some want, some desire, but he didn't know what for. He sighed, slipping the feather gently into a pocket, and then disappeared, off to answer the call of the Winchesters.

Several weeks passed before Azrael found him again, this time while he was with the Winchesters. Her appearance had all three of them gazing at her with open mouths and blank faces. She seemed genuinely surprised to be there, looking around her in vague confusion. She was in almost the same form as she had been last time, but her wings, rather than having her wings out and folded, or completely hidden, had taken the form of tattoos. Tattooed wings wrapped up around her neck and over her eyes, and down along her legs and feet. Her tunic, open-backed, revealed her last set of wing tattoos. It gave her a rather exotic look, tipping the scales farther from human and closer to being something _else_. "I... apologize for intruding. I simply wished to speak with Castiel. I did not realize he was with you. It is... nice to see the two of you again." "Azrael... it's um... nice to see you too." She gazed calmly at the older Winchester boy, Dean, the man that should have been her brother's vessel for the final fight. A vague anger flickered through her, remnants of the rage she had felt when she had to watch her brothers kill each other off, unable to interfere because that was how Father had said it would be. She stopped the emotion immediately, but from the look Castiel gave her, she must have let some of it leak through. It must have been enough for the brothers to feel as well, because both because both became incredibly uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in their seats. Last time she had had a temper around them, they had almost died. "Azrael, you said you wished to speak to me." Castiel spoke, breaking the silence that had settled into the room. She blinked once, refocusing on him. "Yes, I was wondering if you had given any thought to my offer." her voice was completely polite, but there was some small, underlying emotion that was unidentifiable. "I have not had the time to give it much thought. I have been... occupied. The Winchesters have been requiring my help, and I have been given several missions from higher up." Although the Winchesters would have never heard it, she could hear the disgust when he said mission, felt the anger and hurt and pain that rolled off him when he said it. Saying Castiel was not happy about those missions would have been a rather large understatement. "I could have stopped those, you just needed to ask. I will hear you call my name while you have that feather. As you are obviously busy, I will leave you three to whatever topic you were speaking off. Castiel, I will speak to you again another time." There was no light flapping noise that usually accompanied an angel coming or going. She was just gone. "So... she's really quiet. What's up with the no flappy noise thing?" Castiel's head cocked slightly at Dean's question. "You know... when you come and go? The wing flaps?" "Death flies on silent wings." "So... you're like a pigeon, and she's like an owl?" "What did I say about asking stupid questions?"

_ I find myself in these diners far too often for my enjoyment_, Castiel thought. The brothers had stopped at one of the stereotypical, vaguely run-down diners that they always stopped at, and Cas had joined them, despite the fact that he never needed to eat. The waitress had come, tried to flirt with him, and failing to elicit a response, had moved on to Dean, where she received the reaction she had hoped for. Orders taken, she disappeared with a slight smile, Dean's eyes following her. A slightly feeling, almost a tickle in the back of Castiel's mind was the only warning, and more than sufficient enough to know who was coming. As Dean turned his head back to the table, Azrael stared at him from across the table, sitting next to Sam. Both brothers jumped. "Son of a-. Man, I wish you guys would stop doing that." Dean frowned at her, while she stared at him with completely innocent eyes. "Doing what, Dean? Traveling? We do have to move somehow." Her voice was completely calm, smooth, like honey. "Wear a damn bell or something..." Dean muttered under his breath. She looked different again, Castiel noticed. Her black tunic and tattoos were gone. She had on dark blue jeans, ripped across both knees and in a few other spots. She lightly kicked feet with black moccasins on them, the black leather looking soft as butter, and as black as midnight. A comfortable looking, long sleeved black shirt clung to a surprisingly amount of curves, and bright green eyes gleamed from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Something unknown stirred within Castiel as she met his gaze. True, it was only a vessel, but her appearance made his mind wonder to things he had never thought about. Like what her lips would feel like. He had grown used to her presence, that slight sense of danger when she was near, and instead of it worrying him, it left him feeling slightly intoxicated. He shook his head, forcing his mind to focus, coming back into a conversation that was taking a turn for the worse. "Look, you little lethal ginger dwarf, I don't have to sit here and -" "Azrael." Castiel's voice disrupted the insult match that was beginning to turn ugly between the odd Archangel and Dean. "Do you need something?" "Not exactly, Thursday. You are about to need me. You are about to receive a summoning for a new mission. You are not going to respond to the summoning or take the assignment." Her eyes settled on him, and they were as hard as the jewel that they shared color with. "Why?" Castiel asked, his brow slightly furrowed. "You will not be able to complete the mission. The angel you would be sent to kill would kill you, and I would rather that not happen." Dean and Sam traded odd glances, and Dean interrupted. "Wouldn't whoever is bringing Cas back to life just bring him back to life again?" The waitress appeared, hearing the tail end of the comment, and gave the group an odd glance. Passing out the food, she looked at the small but beautiful woman that had joined the group, and sighing unhappily at the competition for male attention that had mysteriously appeared, she asked for her order. "Hot tea, please." was the quick response, and the waitress disappeared again. "I thought you drank a lot?" Sam asked, giving the angel an odd look. "I am not drunk all of the time. That would be ridiculous. And considering I can essentially sober up at will, it does not matter even if I do drink. As I was saying... Castiel, you will not respond to -" Both angelic heads cocked, almost like dogs, like they were hearing a sound that the humans could not. "I must go." Castiel said quickly. "No. You will not." Cas felt bands of power wrap around him, anchoring him to this current place and time. Her power washed over him in waves, gently, but unbreakable, no matter how much he struggled. He always forgot how powerful she was, she kept so much of it hidden, contained. The bands relaxed their almost painful hold, but even then, they held him perfectly still. "You see, the mission they are summoning you about? It is an assassination. The target is to be me, which is ridiculously idiotic, honestly. Castiel, I would prefer not having to kill you, even if someone is bringing you back. I dislike killing people I like." That waitress kept showing up at terrible moments in the conversation, and the look she now gave Azrael was, to say the least, freaked out. "Thank you for the tea." was Azrael's polite comment, accompanied by a slight smile. The waitress back away nervously, nodding her head slightly. Azrael looked back to Castiel, who she could still feel struggling, and decided to distract him. A slight smile flickered across her face, and she concentrated for a brief moment. Castiel's eyes rolled back in his head, and his struggles stopped almost immediately. "What are you doing to him? Stop hurting him, he didn't do anything to you." Dean's worried comment distracted her from her observation of Castiel's mind, which had shut down under a barrage of invisible gentle touches along his vessel's most sensitive areas. "Oh, I am not hurting him. I am doing the exact opposite, in fact." Azrael smiled again, looking at Dean, who was now staring at her with a blank face. She would have explained but warning bells rang in her head. "Zarnaah's coming." The short comment echoed in a diner that was suddenly completely silent. Everyone, aside from the four at the table, was frozen, not moving, not breathing, not blinking. "For safety." she said, flicking her eyes to the brothers. Castiel was released from his invisible bonds, now that they were no longer needed, and let out a shaky breath, looking at Azrael with surprise in his eye, although something else flashed in the backs of his eyes, and it almost looked like hunger. The sound of wings flapping filled the diner distracted her from her observation of him, and then another angel was there. "Hello, Zarnaah." Azrael said calmly, looking at the man that had suddenly appeared. He had a regal cast, and arrogance rolled off him in waves. Icy blue eyes gazed into green ones, disgust twisting what would probably be a handsome face into something ugly. His hair was cut short, maybe an inch or two, and was white-blonde. He was pale as well, made even more so by the dark suit he was wearing. Clearing his throat, he spoke. "Azrael. Would you like to explain why you are holding one of my angels hostage?" His voice was cold, and hard, all too reminiscent of ice. "For giggles. Oh, and because you are a dick." Dean snickered slightly at that, earning him a dangerous glare from the angel standing at the edge of the table. "You see, Zarnaah, I like Castiel there. So, I am holding him so he does not go to you, get assigned a suicide mission, and I have to kill him, and then you. I prefer just skipping to you." Azrael's voice easily matched Zarnaah's for coldness, and her green eyes had disappeared. Now, cold, starry space looked back at him. "So, let us just skip to the end shall we? I' will leave you in one piece rather than atoms scattered all over the universe if you'll pass on a message to all the big players in the temper tantrum that is happening back home. Tell them to leave me, and leave Castiel here, alone. No assassination attempts. No laying siege. No ambushes. Nothing. I know the big boys are not happy that I am relaxing on the side lines while they rip each other to shreds. Everyone wants me to on their side. Well, I would rather let Lucifer back out before I join in this petty little civil war. Now, you go running back to Heaven and your little army of imbecilic followers before I really lose my temper and do something I regret." She had stood during her little speech, and now stood mere inches from the other angel. The air in the diner crackled heavily with energy, and the slightest outline of wings flickered around her. Zarnaah swallowed slowly, struggling to meet the chilling gaze Azrael had leveled on him. Both Winchesters were struggling to stay conscious, the pressure emanating from the angered angel immense, making it almost impossible to breathe. Castiel was even leaning away from her, squinting slightly, almost as if she was too bright. "I think that would be for the best." Zarnaah said in a quiet voice, and with that, he was gone. The pressure ceased, both Winchesters gasped in a breath of clean air, and time in the diner resumed. Azrael sat back at the table, green eyes blank as she looked at Castiel. "You know, Az... sometimes I'm not sure it's a good thing whether you are on our side or not, or even if you are on our side." Dean managed to gasp out. There was a flash of immense pain, quickly smothered. Emotionless eyes stared at Dean, and her voice, when she spoke, was just as dead as her eyes. "Oh yes, Dean. Trust me. I know. I happen to be very accustomed to that. I shall be going." She gave a slight nod to Castiel, who unconsciously reached out a hand for her, but she was gone. "Cas, you ok?" Dean asked. "I do not know." All Castiel knew is that when he had seen that pain in Azrael's eyes, he had felt pain in his heart for her, and when she had left, still so upset, it hurt him too.

"Caaaaaaaaaastiel. Castieeeeeeeeeeeel. Cassssssssssssssssssssssstiel." "What?" Azrael blinked happily up at him as the noise of wings faded from the hillside. She was lying, completely relaxed, on the ground. "Oh hello there. What... why are you here again?" "You were calling me." Castiel's voice was even more deadpan than usual. "Oh riiiiiiight. That was me. Yeah... Hey Thursday! Come, sit beside me and watch this. It's pretty fucking hilarious. It's our brothers slaughtering each other!" She giggled madly at this, and Castiel finally looked around to see where they were. Azrael had summoned him to the top of a gently sloping hill, and not even a quarter of a mile away, a massive battle was occurring. "Come! Sit!" A massive surge of power from Azrael, and he found himself sitting beside her where she reclined on the grass. Only now did he notice the large bottle filled with strong smelling liquid in her hand. Castiel knew that smell. "Are you drunk?" "Maaaaaaaybe." "Why do you feel the need to drown yourself in alcohol constantly? It is looked down upon by others." Castiel's voice was stern, cold, as he tried to distance himself from this angel who confused him so much, who destroyed his usual unshakeable calm, making him feel emotions he never had before. "Oh really? Why, I would have never know that everyone else thought I was a disgusting freak if you hadn't told me. Thank you for that. I obviously am not up to the high standards set in the moral Rulebook. Could you remind me of what it says in there about mass murder, genocide... you know, the fun stuff? Oh, that is looked down upon too? Yeah, that's what I thought. Bite me, o sanctimonious one. So yeah, I drink, so I can ignore the feeling of snuffing out thousands and thousands of lives, and so I can ignore the fact that pretty much everyone I know is scared of me in some way. But anyway, this isn't even actually that bad. This is only like... Five liquor stores. I feel fucking amazing though." She giggled happily again, eyes bright in her flushed face. "Should we really be this close to the battle?" Castiel, struggling to cope with dealing with a drunken Archangel of Death decided to focus on the problem he had experience with, and kept casting slightly worried glances toward the massacre that was happening. "Oh, those busybodies... they won't fuck with me, even with me being like this. At least, I'm pretty sure they won't." She vaguely gestured at herself. Azrael looked over at him, eyes shifting. Castiel found himself looking into the micro-universe that was her eyes. There was something odd there, something dangerous. She scanned slowly up and down his vessel. "Castiel... I find this vessel... what's the word... gimme a sec, I'll think of it... attractive! That's it. Attractive. And not just the vessel. I mean, you are different, special. I cannot tell why, or where it came from, but you have a great Grace in you, far more than what you should have... but none of that really matters, coz you're not that shabby on the eyes." Her eyes had trailed across his body, and Castiel could almost feel them tracing the planes of his body. Her graze stopped for a slightly longer moment on his lips, then flicked up to meet his gaze. "I find you very attractive. Do you think..." she leaned slowly in, eyes on his lips, running her tongue along her lips, wetting them.

A cough interrupted whatever might have happened. The strange emotion that had been in her eyes before vanished, replaced by a chilling emptyness. Seven angels looked at them, cold expressions painted across their faces. "May I help you, brothers?" Azrael asked politely, relaxing back on both of her arms, the goofy drunk from just seconds before gone, not a trace to be found. "No. We don't want, or need, your help, Abomination. Father made a mistake when he made you, just like He made a mistake when He created Lucifer. We are going to remedy that mistake. " Those dangerous silver stilettos, angelic blades, appeared in their hands. Castiel moved slowly to his feet, tensed, ready for battle, even against dangerous odds, confusing feelings suppressed now in the urgency of the moment. His wary stance was broken by Azrael's cold laugh, and he gave her a slightly worried look. "You boys are cute. And innocent. Now, why don't you run back to your boss. I would hate for you to die for his stupidity." There was no arrogance in the tone, just coldness. Danger. That voice made all of Castiel's warrior instincts scream to flee, and obviously it had the same effect on the other angels. One of the angels further back stalled a bit, but continued advancing when the rest of the squad did. "Castiel... you may want to cover your eyes." Azrael rolled lightly to her feet, wings gracefully unfolding from the aether. The wind whipped up, the grass hissing like snakes. Castiel could feel her power surrounding him like a ocean, and that ocean was beginning to get a bit choppy. Power rolled off her in waves, and the waves were getting stronger, building towards a tsunami. The squad halted not more than a few feet from her, easily withing lunging distance, casting anxious looks at each other. One in the back took a step back, seeming like he was about to run. It was far too late for that. The tsunami broke. Power burst outward, shining brightly, leaving Castiel with a singed feeling and an after-image flashing in his eyes. The squadron didn't even have time to scream. The blast of energy rippled over them, disintegrating them where they stood. No ash, no bright light of Grace being released. Nothing. They were just gone. Azrael turned back to Castiel, her eyes still dangerous. Unthinking, Castiel flinched back, waiting for the obliterating wave. When he looked around his arms, which had come up automatically to shield his face, he found himself staring into emerald eyes that were bright with hurt. "You think I would hurt you, Castiel, when you have done nothing, ever, to truly threaten me... you who I would call a friend... and who I wished was so much mo-" She cut herself off, the hurt flaring brighter. Then she was gone. Castiel searched the hill, but Azrael was nowhere to be seen.

Castiel worked on autopilot through the next week or so, only minimally aware, confusion wreaking havoc in his mind. His unawareness was almost his end. Castiel still wasn't sure how they had managed to capture him. All he knew is one moment he was going about a task, next, six angels were pummeling him into submission. Even an angel can only take so much, and the darkness of unconsciousness reached up and took him in its arms. The light was far too bright when he managed to open his eyes. A pounding headache, that was not going away for some reason, was beating an erratic tempo in his head. He tried to move his body, only to discover he was too well bound. He managed to move his head around enough to look around, and slowly took stock of his surroundings. He was tied, ironically enough, to a cross, it's base firmly set into the group. The cross in and of itself was not the problem. The Enochian sigil of binding around the cross was. He only studied this for a brief moment before searching the room. There he found the true source of his current predicament. "Raphael." Castiel's voice was rougher than usual, revealing the pain he still felt from the beating, the sigil binding his powers, restricting his ability to heal. "Hello, Castiel. I did tell you I would catch up with you one day. Looks like you get to be my little bitch... again."

Castiel lost track of the time passing. All that mattered was the pain. It was only during one of the brief lulls that a memory came to the surface. _Remember, as long as you have my feather, I'll be able to find you. Just call out. I'll hear._ Azrael's words haunted him now. He still had the feather, but would she come, after the pain he had caused her? He hadn't meant to shrink away from her the day of the battle. It was pure instinct that had done it. Well, he didn't have many other options, any other options really, so he decided to take the chance. It took several tries to actually get her name out, his throat raw from screaming. The first few times were incomplete whispers, just loud enough to draw Raphael's attention and bring him walking over to Castiel's bound form. "What is that you are trying to say, little soldier? Going to beg for mercy?" Castiel slowly pulled his head up, stared through blood, sweat, and bruises deep into Raphael's eyes, and managed one word. "Azrael." Fear flashed into Raphael's eye, and his blade flashed up, hoping to end Castiel before the Angel of Death arrived. No such luck.

A small hand reached out, stopping the blow an inch from Castiel's body. "Hello, Raphael. I think it's time we have a nice little talk, Brother." The next thing Raphael knew, he was slamming into the wall, pinned there by power. Eyes that reflected the universe stared back at him, eyes full of beautiful stars, but as cold as the void that they resided in. Power flooded the room as Azrael dropped the bonds she so often kept up, shielding the full extent of her strength from other angels. There were no earthquakes, no thunderstorms, none of the usual omens of angelic power being released. Just a sudden quiet as she let herself go. Quiet where before there had been the slight, low hum of activity. Raphael knew in a heartbeat that they were all dead. All the other angels in the compound. No bodies would be found, not a hint of Grace. Nothing. Emptiness. Raphael felt fear for the first time in a very long time. "You see, Raph, brother dear, not that I consider you anything even close to family after you tricked me into killing innocents, I was willing to ignore you lying to my face, but then you go and just be a complete dick. I could happily hate you for tricking me, but it was mainly my fault that I trusted you so. After all, I know you are a lying prick. But now... you have to go and fuck with something, someone, who is important to me. You really just couldn't leave good enough alone could you? You know, even though you are my brother, I am going to have to say goodbye. " She stepped slowly up to him, her three sets of wings folded neatly along her back. "I am sorry for this, Raphael. I wish you had not forced my hand so. But you are as a rapid dog, and rapid dogs must be put down." She slowly floated him away from the wall, a sad look in her eyes. She reached up gently, wrapping her arms around him, wings unfurling and wrapping around them both, hiding Raphael from view. A high pitched whine sounded, building slowly to a roaring peak, like a thunderstorm, train, jet plane, and nuclear bomb were all making noise at once. Castiel was screaming in pain by the time the whine stopped, blood dripping slowly from his ears. Shuddering in his chains, he looked to the Angel of Death, and found her just standing there, head down, Raphael no where to be seen. A single tear dripped from her eye to land on the cold floor. A deep breath, and she turned quickly to Castiel, her still the star-speckled void of space. She stepped quickly toward him. "Wait. Sigil." Castiel managed to croak out. A slight smirk was all that he got in response. As her foot crossed the outer line of the sigil, flames flashed out, destroying it. "I'm Death, Castiel. You can't bind or dismiss Death."

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" There was pain in her voice as she looked at his injured body. "Didn't remember. Didn't know if you would come either. I'm sorry." Castiel's voice was broken by a groan as Azrael unbound him from the cross, catching him as his knees collapsed. "You don't need to apologize. I understood your reaction. I've seen it too many times not to understand." The last part she muttered to herself, almost too quiet for him to hear. "Why aren't I healing yet..." Castiel's breathing was labored. "I don't know. I can heal you, but it would... change you. Father didn't create me like all the other angels. I heal you... I put my Grace into you... you'll change. You won't be white and shiny anymore. You'll be a little dark. Are you willing to accept that? It won't change who you are, fundamentally. You will still be you. You'll just be a little more like me." Castiel chuckled slightly, even though it was obvious that pained him. "Considering you have been far more kind to me than all of those other angels you speak about, I think being more like you could be a very good thing. Do it." She rearranged him gently, so that he was leaning back against her, while she was propped up against the base of the cross. Her wings again formed a cocoon, but there was none of the cold fury that had been there earlier. It was all gentleness, caring. In the soft, feathery darkness, her hand came up, gently tilting Castiel's head around. She leaned forward just enough to kiss him. It started out chaste, just a touch of lips, but what felt like lightning bolts of pleasure shot through Castiel. He sucked in a painful breath, and leaned heavily into the kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue. Her lips parted gently, her tongue snaking out to tangle with his. This only occurred for a few seconds before her arms came up, and vise-like, locked his head to hers. Castiel felt power built quickly, and instinctively tried to struggle away, but the arms curling around his head held him there. Power began to rush into him. He could feel his muscles lock down under the rush of sensation, and his confused brain couldn't grasp whether the sensation was a painful pleasure or a pleasurable pain. The rush of energy only lasted for a few seconds, but even those few seconds felt like a week. Azrael broke the kiss, panting slightly. She rested her head back against the cross, suppressing the moan that threatened to tear its way out of her body. Kissing him had been just as good as she thought it would be. Even though part of her had been concentrating on controlling her power, there had been more than enough of her mind left over to note that his lips had been delectably soft and sweet, and his breathe had smelt of ambrosia. She could have healed him just as easily in a far less personal way, but this way she could finally satisfy her curiosity. Withdrawing her wings, she checked on him, not on the vessel, but the angel hidden within. Was his light a little less white? Did he glow a little less? It worried her that she might have corrupted him. He was so good, and she didn't deserve anything like him, something so good, so pure, so beautiful.

He opened his eyes, looked down at his body, and stood quickly, stretching. A small voice behind him said "I will go now. I am sure you have other things to be doing that do not involve subjecting yourself to a presence such as mine." Azrael stood slowly, eyes downcast, not paying attention to anything aside from the painful hole inside her, the hole that, she thought, would never be filled. She was just too odd, too different, for someone to be comfortable with, for someone to love. She knew Castiel had only called her name as a last resort, and while she was not ok, she would be able to cope, just as she always had. Her Father, who loved her and whose Will was always good and right, had created her this way. But knowing that she was meant to be this way didn't make her existence any less painful. So distracted was she by this trail of thought that she didn't realize Castiel was turning, a fire burning in his blue eyes. The force of his body pushing her back into the cross, and the press of his lips to hers did shock her out of her thoughts. She was too shocked to kiss back, and Castiel noticed. He pulled back slightly, breaking contact, looking into emerald eyes so full of surprise that no other emotion had room to show itself. The surprise quickly changed to desire, and it was Azrael that leaned forward then, pressing her lips against his. One of Castiel's hands wove itself into her hair, pulling gently, and angling her head so that their lips contacted more. Azrael's hands were roaming his body, trailing down the buttons of his white shirt, tugging it out of the slacks, and trailing back up, buttons surrendering easily to her nimble fingers. She ran gentle hands along his chest, feeling the contours of the muscles while her tongue danced a complicated dance with his. She broke the kiss only long enough to whisper "Hold on." and then they were gone from the room with the cross, in a compound where the touch of Death had left empty.

Castiel had no idea where she had brought them, but he knew the bed under his back was soft, the sheets almost felt as silky as feathers when he brushed a hand against them, the scent of ambrosia filled the slightly warm air. It was too dark for him to see, which would have bothered him, except all of his concentration was focused on Azrael, now straddling his hips, who was seemingly removing clothing from him without him even having to do anything. All too soon, she was down to the bare skin of his chest, and it was soon marked with hot kisses and hotter love nips. Not wanting parts of his body to feel left out, she gave his neck the same treatment, kissing, licking and nibbling her way along, delighting when she found spots that made his fingers dig into the flesh of her hips, and quiet groans sing through the darkness. She could feel him, hard and big enough to make her hunger all the more, pressing up against her through his slacks, and she stopped her slow perusal of his body with her mouth to take a few seconds to grind heatedly against it. The motion brought low moans from both of them. A quick twist, and Castiel was on top, his weight pressing her delightfully into the mattress, and she moaned happily, trailing nails down his back. Rather than giving into the urge to grind against her, now that he was securely between her thighs, Castiel quickly worked to get her tunic off. "Payback time." he whispered quietly, and proceeded to subject her to the exact same torturous exploration with his mouth that she had been inflicting on him just a moment earlier. By the time he was done, she was writhing below him, pleading. "Cas, please. Please, I need you." The rest of his clothing had been lost, who knows how, and now it was naked flesh against naked flesh, and it was the work of a moment to alter angles and push into her. Twin moans almost echoed in the darkness of the room, and those moans were soon followed by more moans, more groans, and more words spoken in encouragement and delight. They both exploded at the same time, bright light flooding the room as they lost control. Azrael screamed Castiel's name, and Castiel moaned her's into her neck.

They lay entwined after, savoring the feel of skin against skin. Sleep didn't come for them, they were angels, after all, but a restful silence settled between them. Who knows how long it had been until Castiel spoke. "What did you do to Raphael, if I may ask?" "I spoke his true name and erased him from all of Creation. There is nothing of him. No little Raphael atoms floating around in some far away corner of the universe. He is gone. Completely and utterly gone. I an afraid I lost my temper slightly with him." "Oh..." was Castiel's only response. More time passed, more restful silence, then Castiel spoke again. "What did it do to me... putting some of your Grace inside me? I would like to know." Azrael sighed quietly to herself. "To explain that, I have to explain how I differ from a typical angel. I walk far closer to the darkness than most angels do, but I'm significantly more dangerous than almost any angel still living. Gabriel is far more dangerous in some ways than I am, but he cannot destroy life like I can. If I wish, I can walk into Hell without an issue, because of the darkness in me. But I am not evil. Far from it in fact. I have never used my more... deadly... gifts in anything other than a situation that Father ordered, or in self defense of me or something, or someone, that means something to me. I was lead astray once, as you know... " She was quiet for a few seconds, and Castiel could feel her tense slightly, then slowly let out a breath. "I will never forgive myself for that. Most Enochian spells do not completely work on me, yet again, because of the darkness. However, the darkness harms me. I doubt Father far more often than the usual angel. It is why I so strictly force myself to follow his orders. It is hard, sometimes, maintaining faith. And it would be far easier for me to Fall. Terrible things could happen then, and I would have to be put down like a rabid dog. Many would die that day... too many." Her voice trailed off, and Castiel could almost see the frown that flicked across her face as she contemplated it. She shook herself slightly, drawing her thoughts back to where they should be. "So, me replacing your Grace with mine would turn you slowly into a darker version of yourself. More prone to Falling. True Falling. Not the Falling that most angels think of today. Father encouraged growth through discovering new things, new ways of thinking. New anything. That way we do not stagnate and and grow weak. You only truly Fall if you directly disobey. You do the exact opposite of His Will... Not that Falling of any kind should bother you, of all angels. But I digress... Ease in dealing with Hell, more prone to Falling... resistance to Enochian magic... That is very distracting." She was talking about Castiel's lips trailing along her neck, nibbling gently. There was no more conversation after that for a while.

It was several hours later when Castiel spoke again. "I would like you to finish what you started. Change me completely." Azrael separated from his arms, and sat up in bed, staring down into the darkness to where she knew Castiel to be. "I cannot do that. It would not be right, corrupting someone else, creating another Abo-" "Don't you dare say Abomination. You are not an Abomination. Father made you as you are. He meant for you to be this way. You are special... not an Abomination." Castiel reached out in the dark, finding Azrael's face and stroking her cheek gently. She sighed, leaning into his hand gently. "But you are so good, so pure, so beautiful... I planned on doing it to only one other angel, you know. The one that would be with me forever. Of course, then the rest of the family realized exactly how terrifying I was, and I realized I would never find someone that would want to stay with me, truly." "I would love to spend the rest of eternity with you." came the quiet response. It was a long moment before Azrael managed to respond, and when she did, her voice was sad. "You are feeling indebted to me for saving your life. I will not take advantage of that. It would not be fair. Think about what you are saying before you promise something such as this, promise to be with a monster for the rest of time..." There was a slight movement of air in the darkness of the room, and she was gone.

She didn't come back. Castiel went on about his eternal existence, occasionally helping the brothers with hunting, avoiding the civil war that was slowly ripping Heaven apart, and contemplating the single gray feather he had, all that he had left of the angel he was sure he was meant to be with. The one that filled a hole in his heart he had not noticed was there until her presence had filled it. Now it was gaping open, almost like a wound that would not heal. Several times he almost called out to her, but something stopped him. He was never sure the exact moment he realized he couldn't keep doing this without her near him. Slowly a plan took shape in his head.

Azrael heard his voice call out her name, in that little space in her mind that would always belong to him, and with a joyous heart, she went to him. But he wasn't there when she got there. Then her name, called again, echoing in that part of her mind that she knew belonged to him. Another blink, another location, and he still wasn't there. She lost count of the different spots she went too, but finally anger being to set in. Who was he to play with her like this... some little rank and file angel, nothing terribly special, except that she made him special. Well, she would show him why she was one of Father's favorites, one of the First Born. She stopped her hops, waiting, motionless, for the call. Before the first syllable had even finished, she was standing beside him, the slightest flick of power pinning him to the wall. There was anger in the star clouded space eyes when they looked at him. "Who are you to toy with me like this?" Castiel could feel her power around him, washing over him like an ocean, turbulent in her anger. He had missed that feeling, even if her anger was directed at him. "Well? Who are you, _little_ brother, to play with one of our Father's First Born like this. I was breathed into life along side the likes of Michael, Gabriel and Lucifer, and you think you can play games with me? You think you would have learned your lesson after fighting with all of them, but apparently you need to learn it again. I don't think you'll be coming back this time though." She was close enough to him now their noses were touching. More than close enough. He leaned forward just enough to snag her lips in a gentle kiss. At the touch of his lips, the hurricane of invisible energy ripping through the room quiet, his bonds disappeared, and he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close. She whimpered in the back of her throat, and he pulled away enough to look into her eyes. Green eyes looked back at him, but the rage was gone, replaced by a deep confusion. Castiel ran a gentle thumb along her cheek, and returned his lips to hers. She hungrily kissed him back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. She could feel him brush her mind just as his tongue brushed hers. _Azrael... do it._ She didn't even need to ask what he wanted. She summoned her Grace, and as her arms locked around his head, flooded his being with it. She felt his Grace resist for a mere second before absorbing the alien energy she was flooding him with. She could sense his light grow dimmer, tarnished. She felt the darkness grow in him, not truly changing him, but shaping him into what he should have been created as in the first place. When she was done, she pulled away from his lips, and looked into his eyes as he slowly opened them. "So, how does it feel to be reborn?" He looked down at her, and stars twinkled from the darkness in his eyes.


End file.
